Law of the Broken Earth(56)
“Alarming? Well, but exciting, too, don’t you think? It could have been anything, couldn’t it? Well, anything valuable,” Mienthe amended. “Something that your Istierinan would be desperate not to lose. Something to do with the magic of language and law. Maybe you’ll be able to speak all languages now, do you think? Wouldn’t that be wonderful? Erich tried to teach me Prechen, but I couldn’t get more than a word or two to come off my tongue. Or maybe you’ll be able to tell when someone is speaking the truth, or when they’re writing a contract with intent to deceive. It stands to reason a legist would put only some wonderful, strong magic in a book, doesn’t it? Only he didn’t expect another legist with such a strong gift to get it out again, did he? Only then you did.” Mienthe paused, staring at Tan in speculation.
Tan tried not to smile. He liked her optimism, and hoped she was right, and hesitated to say anything that might reveal his own terror of what his mind might now contain.
Somewhere, distantly, there was a shout. Indistinct with distance, but definitely a shout. Mienthe jumped up in alarm, and Tan reached for his cane.
There was a firm knock on the door before he could get to his feet. A guardsman opened it, leaned in, and said, “Lady Mienthe?” He looked a little embarrassed, but determined—the very picture of a man driven by orders to a forwardness that was not his by nature. It was Tenned son of Tenned, which amused Tan even under these circumstances. “You do find yourself on duty at the most fraught moments,” he commented.
“Yes,” said the young guardsman in a harassed tone. “Nothing like this ever happened before you came to Tiefenauer. I don’t think I’ll ever complain of boredom again.”
“What now?” Mienthe asked.
“Esteemed lady—” Tenned began, but paused. Then he said, out in a rush, “Captain Geroen says he’s getting reports from riverside, they say there’s an awful lot of activity across the river, and Captain Geroen wants to undeck our half of the bridge, and send men to watch all the fordable parts of the river upstream and down, and muster the men. And the other captains, as were in command of the different divisions before Lord Bertaud appointed Geroen above them all, they don’t want to do any of that, they say it’s a fool who sees smoke from one campfire and declares the whole forest is burning. And the captain of the royal guard, Temnan, you know, he wants to send after the king to see what he should do—”
“That’s a fool,” Tan murmured. “Indecisiveness is the worst of faults in a captain—other than shyness, and that send after the king could be a sign of either. Or both. I don’t know what influential family the king would be accommodating to have promoted a fool to a captaincy, but I wonder if this is why he left the man behind?”
“To guard his queen?” Mienthe objected. “And his daughters?”
“He can’t have expected anything to happen…”
“I’m sure Temnan is perfectly competent,” Mienthe declared, but her eyes hid worry.
“However that is, Captain Geroen, he sent me to find you, esteemed lady, and beg you come and tell him he can undeck the bridge—”
“That can’t be necessary,” said Mienthe, rather blankly.
The bridge between Tiefenauer in the Delta and Linularinan Desamion had never been a truly permanent sort of bridge of stone and iron; the history of the Delta was too complicated. It was a timber bridge, which meant that rotted timbers had to be replaced from time to time, but also meant that either side could undeck the bridge if times became suddenly uncertain.
“Lady—” Tenned began.
“Esteemed Mienthe—” Tan said at the same time.
Mienthe held up her hand to quiet them both. Possibly Tan’s comment about indecisiveness was echoing in her ears, because she said to the guardsman, “Go tell Captain Geroen to give whatever orders he sees fit about the bridge, and about setting sentries around Tiefenauer. Mustering the men—isn’t that something we sometimes drill? Don’t I recall my cousin ordering a muster once just to see how fast the guard could respond?”
“Four years ago, yes, lady,” said Tenned respectfully. “Just after I joined.”
“We could do that now. Couldn’t we? But in the middle of the night? Maybe we ought to wait for morning?”
“The captain—”
“I’ll come speak to Captain Geroen,” Mienthe decided. “But I think—wait a moment.” She caught up the blank-paged book and darted with it into the other room. But in only a moment she was back again, breathless, the Linularinan book gone. “All right, let’s go,” she said to Tenned, and waved at Tan to accompany her.